


Juror Six

by Frumpologist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Jury Duty, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Valentine’s Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 23:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17734457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frumpologist/pseuds/Frumpologist
Summary: Hermione has tried everything to get Draco to notice her. Finally, she decides to encroach on his place of employment to catch attention.





	Juror Six

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the Strictly Dramione Valentine’s Day Smut Fest 2019. The fest is based on the premise of an old, 1950s article called 129 Ways To Get a Husband. It’s a truly comical and bizarre list. My prompt was #16 - Volunteer for jury duty. 
> 
> I do not own Harry Potter or anything recognizable within this story. Sadly.

Hermione Granger thought she knew how to get the attention of a workaholic. She didn’t, as it turned out. Showing up at his flat wearing silky, red lingerie underneath a black trench coat only worked if said wizard was home. Of course he wasn’t. He never was. 

She’d been making eyes at him at the Ministry for months. He barely noticed. The strictest of nods, an occasional silent ride in the lift, a rare raised eyebrow when she offered him coffee. Draco Malfoy had no idea she existed. Not only that, but she  _ pined _ after him and he didn’t see it. 

Everyone else did. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

“That’s just the way he is.”

“I can set you up with Cormac.”

“Try red lipstick.”

“Straighten your hair.”

“Have you tried contouring?”

“I heard he’s into femme doms.”

“He prefers tea to coffee.”

“Try fake eyelashes.”

“My mum told me about a potion…”

Hermione gave up on taking advice a very long time ago. She tried suggestion after suggestion until Harry and Ron pulled her aside. ‘An intervention,’ they’d said. Ron reminded her of their entire history with the Malfoy family. Harry reminded her that her work for magical beasts does not, in fact, include the seduction of Draco Malfoy.

She needed new, supportive friends. 

That was how she ended up stalking Ginny after one of her quidditch games. Nevermind that the female locker room smelt like sweat and sex, something Hermione thoughtfully chose to ignore when Luna — decidedly  _ not _ a quidditch player  _ —  _ skipped out of the room and back into the stadium. 

“He hasn’t even… let his eyes roam your body?” Ginny pulled her dirty jersey over her head and tossed it into a bag in the locker. “From head to toe? You know, that thing blokes do to check you out?”

Hermione fidgeted with her hands and glanced away from Ginny’s freckled flesh. “Erm, no. Unless you count that time he looked at my sleeve and pointed out a stain from my lunch.”

“That doesn’t count,” Ginny sighed. “Merlin, Hermione, you’ve tried so many things… are you sure he’s not, you know, interested in…”

“He’s not dating anyone,” Hermione answered quickly, desperately, too excitedly, and it earned her a pity smile from her friend. 

“Wizards. Is he interested in wizards?” 

“Oh!” Hermione thought for a moment. She’d watched the Prophet and she was sure she’d seen Draco courting witches at galas. Decidedly, he was a heterosexual male. She was mostly sure. Probably. “He’s never given any indication that he prefers wizards.”

“Hm.” Ginny finished getting dressed, entirely unembarrassed that Hermione stood steps away. “There’s only one thing you can do, I think.”

“Merlin, Ginny, at this point I’d do anything short of murder to get his attention.” 

“You’re going to have to volunteer for jury duty.” 

“Jury—” Hermione blinked. On the scale of sexy, sitting in a group of people watching murder trials fell at least at a three out of ten. “How could that possibly help?”

“Well,” Ginny slammed her locker shut and spun the lock. “He’s a workaholic. He has blinders on when it comes to his work. You need to break through that, yeah? Well, what better way than to be  _ at his job _ ?” 

“I…” Hermione glanced down to her feet and bit her lip. “Ginny, that’s a bold move, to encroach on his place of employment.”

“Bollocks to that. Listen.” Ginny laughed. She drew Hermione close with the crook of her arm and led her from the locker room. “Witch Weekly has an article out and it explicitly says to do this.”

“Volunteer for jury duty?” Hermione didn’t believe it. It sounded far too… on point. “Can you even volunteer for jury duty? What about the Wizengamot?”

“Psh.” Ginny waved off her questions. “The Wizengamot doesn’t hold sessions for every case. Just the high profile ones. They use volunteers for lesser cases, and those are the cases Malfoy takes, yeah?”

“Well… I guess, but—“ 

The door opened and she and Ginny were on the outskirts of the pitch. A crisp, February day greeted them. The sun was bright overhead. Luna waited a few steps away. Ginny released Hermione from her grasp and took her hands. 

“Hermione.” Her tone was serious, eyes wide and imploring Hermione to listen. “It’s almost Valentine's Day. You’ve been pining after that wanker for years now, ever since—“

“I don’t need a reminder.” Hermione cut her off and scowled at her freckled friend. “He probably doesn’t even remember it.”

“He wasn’t  _ that _ pissed,” Ginny argued with a small smile on her lips. “He hexed his best friend for you.”

“And then said ‘I don’t want to have to prosecute my best mate’. It’s not exactly romance, Gin.”

The redhead rolled her eyes dramatically. “He’s a bloke. He’s hardly going to tell you it’s because he wants to get in your knickers.”

“I guess.” Hermione sighed and dropped her friend’s hands. “Alright, I'll give it a go, then. Volunteer to serve on the jury. Wonderful.”

“You can’t just—” Ginny rubbed her forehead and Hermione got the distinct impression she was giving her friend a migraine. “You have to do more than sit there like a swot. You need to wear your sluttiest—“

“Oi with the S word!”

“Your  _ sluttiest _ outfit, Hermione. Promise me.” Ginny shoved her finger into her shoulder.

“Ugh. You’re actually the worst, Ginevra Weasley.”

She received a grin in return before her friend walked over to Luna and apparated away.   
  
  


On the 14th of February, Hermione Granger sat in the very center of a raised wooden box surrounded by eleven other witches and wizards. They were all draped in grays and blacks; monochrome and incredibly drab. Hermione, however, wore knee-length robes of silky emerald and had perfectly blown out hair. She stuck out in the middle of the box and spent all of her time before the magistrate entered the chambers crossing and uncrossing her legs. 

The court filled slowly, first with the gallery, then the solicitors and their clientele. She saw his platinum hair slip into the room, his lithe frame hidden beneath black robes. His long fingers wrapped around the handles of a briefcase as he motioned for his burly-looking client to shuffle into the seat furthest from Hermione. She watched as he took his own seat and busied himself digging through paperwork within his briefcase. 

The concentration set in his eyes, the way his jaw tensed when anyone dared interrupt him, it held her attention implicitly. His lips parted to speak in quiet whispers to his client when the magistrate enters the room. 

Everyone stood, their chairs scraped against the cement floor. 

She felt too tall in her less-than-sensible heels and resisted the urge to nervously run her fingers through her hair. 

“All rise for the Honorable Chief Warlock, Tiberius Ogden,” a deep voice commanded. 

An ancient-looking wizard who must have been close to his hundredth birthday entered the room. He wore navy blue robes and tied his chest length beard with a sky blue cord. When he sat in his seat, everyone else in the room followed suit. 

“Good day, counsel,” he greeted the solicitors sitting in front of him. “Members of the jury.”

Hermione crossed her legs again and couldn’t decide what to do with her hands, so she folded them on her lap. A murmur danced through the crowd around her, so Hermione opened her pink, painted lips, and pretended to greet the judge. It would have been too late to say the words and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Not yet. 

“We are in session today, on  _ Valentine’s Day _ , because Mister Malfoy has a case that he insists must be heard today to avoid his client spending any further, unnecessary time in Azkaban.” 

Chief Warlock Ogden looked annoyed as he glared at Malfoy. Malfoy, however, didn’t flinch. 

“Counsel, you will begin with opening statements. I urge you to be swift. My wife and I have plans this evening and I am running short on Valentine’s Day celebrations.”

A few onlookers laughed and it earned a smile from the old magistrate. 

“Your Honor.” Draco ducked his chin and then approached the juror box. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury—”

His eyes found her immediately and she blushed. Their stare lasted but a moment and Hermione’s heart beat wildly in her chest. Draco paced in front of them, a single piece of parchment held between his fingers. 

“Theodore Nott is not a criminal.” 

Hermione scoffed. 

Draco’s eyes tore to hers. 

She coughed into her fist. 

“Do you need some water, Juror Six?” His pale eyebrow arched high over his eye. 

“No, thank you.” Hermione flushed pink and recrossed her legs again. He wasn’t distracted by the move and she cursed internally. “Please continue.”

“Why,  _ thank you _ .” His sneer did nothing to dissuade her feelings. Dammit. “Theodore Nott is not a criminal.” 

He paused and waited for her to interrupt again. She didn’t. 

“He is accused of breeding dragons with no verifiable proof against him. An anonymous tip, no evidence to prove breeding practices, and a statement from a former lover regarding his character. None of this constitutes a ten year sentence in Azkaban.”

“Actually—”

Draco turned slowly toward her. His expression was caught somewhere between scandalized that she’d spoken out of turn — though, that should come as a surprise to no one— and amusement because of course he knew her well enough to know she couldn’t possibly suffer an untruth. 

“Juror Six, this is not a Q&A session—” Draco spoke quietly through thin lips. 

Hermione leaned forward. The golden charm on her necklace dangled over her moderately exposed cleavage. He still didn’t let his gaze wander.

“If there was no evidence, then why was he arrested?” She argued reasonably with a small smile. 

“Juror Six, this is hardly the method we use—” Draco cut himself off with a sigh when his eyes met hers. He glanced around her and must have decided that not answering would be damaging to his case. “Theodore Nott was arrested because two youngling dragons were found on his premises after he was accused by way of an anonymous tip to Magical Law Enforcement of breeding dragons. A far leap—”

“Not so,” she interrupted him and cupped her hands over her kneecap. “Traditionally, only dragon tamers keep younglings. It’s extremely rare for a wizard to have any dragon as a pet due to their volatility and—”

“ _ Juror Six, _ ” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I must ask you to desist. Your Honor—”

Chief Warlock Ogden chuckled and scratched the edge of his beard on his cheek. “Mister Malfoy, I do realize that this is somewhat… unconventional. However given that Miss Gra — er, Juror Six — has a specialized background in magical creatures, it might behoove you to explain your viewpoint in great detail, lest I fear your client might yet find himself back in Azkaban simply due to the unforeseen consequences of having an expert on his alleged crime in the jury of his peers.”

“But—” Draco spluttered, turning so sharply to the magistrate that the parchment on the prosecutor’s desk rustled and fell to the floor. “Your Honor, this is ludicrous, if I might be so bold –”

“You may not.” Ogden smiled serenely in the face of Draco’s building rage. 

“This is  _ preposterous! _ ” The paper in Draco’s hand is curled into a ball. 

“Mister Malfoy, might I remind you that you are in a court of law and if you should feel the need for a temper tantrum, I will hold you in contempt.”

Draco’s mouth opened, closed, and sort of hung between the two as he turned to glare at Hermione with the most enraged expression she’d ever seen. She could do nothing but smile back at him as his pale face heated under his ire. Her nerves were suddenly gone as she stared into his eyes. She licked her lips — he finally saw her. 

_ Finally _ . 

“Fine.” She watched the muscle in his jaw tic. Merlin, if she could run her hands over his sharp jaw and through his soft, platinum hair, all of this would be worth it. “Members of the jury, the most important thing to take away from this trial is that Theodore Nott has always upheld the law to the very –”

“Ha!” Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth – hadn’t actually meant to let that slip out. It earned several rolled eyes from the crowd around her. “What I mean to say is that Theodore Nott has been slandered all over The Daily Prophet for his less than savory business ventures in the past.” 

Draco’s face turned a delightful shade of red. “Juror. Six. This is highly inappropriate behavior and not to mention hearsay about the character of a man you  _ have drinks with once a week _ .” 

Hermione grinned and leaned over to the side to peek around Draco’s thin body. Theo stared back at her with a ridiculous smile on his face. He waved a hand at her from his seat at the defense table. 

“Your Honor,” Draco’s tone expressed just how over it he is, with his words hissing through clenched teeth. “This is – intolerable, sir. A member of the jury is close personal friends with the defendant and continually interrupts counsel trying to argue for his innocence. It makes a mockery of your courtroom.” 

Chief Warlock Ogden eyed Draco carefully. His lips pinch, he stroked his beard, and slammed a gavel down on top of his wooden podium. 

“Counsel Malfoy and Juror Six, we shall take a short recess and I would like for you to work out your differences quickly and quietly within my chambers.” The magistrate motioned at a private door leading out of the courtroom. “I implore you to do your best, Mister Malfoy, as there were not very many volunteers for Valentine’s Day and if we cannot reach a verdict today, Mister Nott will remain in Azkaban until the next trial date can be set.” 

Hermione watched Draco’s throat constrict around his words. She stood and yanked down at her robes so that they covered the curve of her thigh where they’d ridden up. Squeezing past her fellow jurors, Hermione strode from the box and followed Malfoy into the antechamber where the magistrate had instructed them to go. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Draco rounded on her with tight, narrowed eyes and a finger pointed at her face. 

“What the bloody hell are you playing at, Granger?” 

Hermione batted her eyelashes and placed her hands on her hips. His gaze didn’t stray from her eyes and she was momentarily lost in the deep gray hues of his stare. Her cheeks flushed and she nipped at her lower lip. 

“Seems I’ve finally found a way to get your attention.” She hadn’t meant for those words to come from her mouth, but once they were out tension eased out of her shoulders and her whole demeanor felt lighter. 

“ _ What _ ?” Draco’s eyes grew wide. “Have you gone mad?” 

“I’m mad about you, you tosspot!” Hermione flung her arms out to her sides, eyes narrowed. “Honestly, what does it take to make you see me? I have to volunteer for jury duty – on a case that I most certainly  _ shouldn’t _ be a part of – and make an arse of myself before you’ll even notice that I inhabit the same sodding planet as you do!” 

“You –” Draco hissed the word and then closed his mouth. He gaped at her for a moment, opened his mouth to speak again, and then dropped his finger to his side. “You’re – this whole thing was to get my attention?” 

  
Hermione crossed her arms. She looked at everything in the room, but refused to look at him. The stupid wanker. “Of course it was! Have you seen you?” 

He laughed and encroached on her space. She still refused to look at him, but he placed his finger under her chin and tried to force her gaze to his. His stare was softer, perfect pink lips wetted and whispering kinder words at her. 

“My mirror is very snarky, actually,” he admitted with a small smile tugging up at his lips. “Doesn’t care for blonde hair, very pointed comments about being too thin, hates it when I wear black.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” she rasped through a tight through. He was awfully close. His eyes dipped to her lips as she wet them and the beat of her heart fluttered. “Might want to get a new mirror.” 

“Why don’t you tell me what you see.” His smile deepened at the shade of red she turned. “Since you so clearly don’t agree.” 

Hermione stole a quick, deep breath. “You’re bloody fit. And you’re wicked clever.”

“Clever isn’t something my mirror cares about.” Draco’s chuckle vibrated in his chest and she only just realized that she felt it because her hand had rested there of its own accord. She glanced down at it and called it a traitor in her thoughts. “What’s fit about me, Granger?” 

“I hardly think this is the most appropriate time for me to tell you all the ways I find you bloody attractive, Draco.” Her eyes jerk to the heavy wooden door she’d entered the room through. 

“It was an appropriate time for you to make a bloody fool out of me at my place of employ,” he pointed out with a cheeky smile. 

“Sure, because I was sick and tired of you not seeing what’s right the hell in front of you!” 

His fingers finally relaxed their hold on her chin and ghosted across the plane of her cheek. When they tangled into her hair, she gasped at the contact. Her legs went to jelly beneath her and she curled her hand into his robes. 

“What was in front of me, Granger?” He toyed with her curls, tugging on them and then smoothing them out again. If he wasn’t careful, her hair would be a gigantic fluff ball atop her head. 

“Me, you prat.” Hermione pushed her tongue against her cheek. “It never mattered what I did, you didn’t bloody see me.”

“On the contrary.” Draco’s fingers were back onto her jaw, trailing a feather light line across it and down her neck. His hand rested against her pulse and his thumb swiped along her cheek. “I saw everything. I saw the red lipstick. I saw the way you painted your cheekbones. I saw the black lace, the tight fitting muggle jeans, the exposed cleavage. I saw every fucking glimpse of skin you showed me.” 

“But –” Hermione’s heart stuttered. “You never said –”

“ _ You _ never said those things were for me,” he told her. His pupils were so big, only a sliver of gray gazed back at her. She swallowed, throat dry under his intense study of her. “If I had known they were for me, I would have –”

“What,” she breathed heavily, a plea for him to continue. 

His lithe body invaded her space. Scant distance between them, barely enough to fit a thin sheet of parchment. He towered over her so she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. He watched her eyes dance between his and then he slowly, so incredibly deliberately, lowered his lips to hers. 

  
It started chaste, soft, testing. She made a noise in the back of her throat and then it escalated to something fierce and demanding. His tongue swept against hers and his hand dipped from her neck to her hips. He removed any space between their bodies and she could feel just how much he wanted her – pressed against her thigh. 

He maneuvered her backwards until the backs of her thighs hit a table and then he lifted her to sit on top of it. Their lips never parted, their breathing grew frenzied and shallow, the heat between them sweltered. When his hands bunched the hem of her robes to her hips, she pulled her mouth away. He didn’t skip a beat; his lips descended to her throat. Teeth scraped her skin, tongue laved against the pulse of her neck. 

“Draco,” she hissed, brain blissed out on his kiss. “We shouldn’t – there’s a full courtroom just outside the door, Draco, we can’t – not here.” 

“Yes, here. They won’t disturb us. Shhh.” His head dipped down further and he placed open-mouthed kisses to her chest just above her robe line. 

Her hands threaded themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck and encouraged him to continue lower and lower. Draco pulled the fabric down and popped her breasts out the top of her robes. He didn’t want to take one into his mouth and roll his tongue around her hardened nipple. Hermione rolled her hips at the contact and felt his erection. He strained against the material of his trousers. 

  
“Take off your trousers, Draco,” she begged him quietly. “We have to be fast.” 

He made a noise in his throat, guttural and needy. She heard the clink of his belt and felt him rock hard against her entrance. He swiped the head of it against her wet heat and she bit down on her tongue to keep from crying out at the contact. 

“Merlin, you really bloody wanted this.” 

He jerked forward and sheathed himself inside of her in one, swift movement. They stayed still for several moments, only their heavy panting between them. Hermione yanked his head back to her mouth, afraid that she was going to be far too loud – she didn’t want to get arrested for indecent behavior. Draco swallowed her moans as he thrust into her. There was a merciless pattern to his movements – hard, fast, deep. The tension in her belly coiled deliciously with every plunge. The grip on his hair ruthless, but Draco didn’t seem to notice or care. He bit on her lower lip and she kissed him harder. 

She knew he was close. His body moved erratically, his noises into her mouth harsher. Draco’s fingers found her center and didn’t relent from touching her until Hermione’s noises matched his in desperation. 

After only one, two, three more thrusts, Draco’s entire body stiffened. Hermione huffed a breath, not having gotten to reach her climax and Draco pulled away from her lips to stare into her eyes. 

“You didn’t –”

She shook her head. “It’s okay, we have to go anyway. We can try again la –”

As she started to move away from him, Draco halted her. He didn’t pull out, didn’t leave her, but instead began to move his fingers against her again. Hermione was still sensitive, wanted to tell him not to bother, she didn’t want to have a pity orgasm. It was perfectly natural that she wouldn’t get off as quickly with so little foreplay. But, Draco wasn’t having it. 

“You’re not walking away from this until I’ve made you come,” he promised her just before his lips crashed against her again. 

It took a little work, but he had her over the edge quickly and it was only then that he pulled out of her. It didn’t escape her notice that he’d started to grow hard again. But they couldn’t – there was an  _ entire courtroom _ waiting for them. 

She groaned as he tucked himself away into his trousers and helped her to pull her robes back down over her thighs. 

“Oh, heavens, we have to walk out there. Draco, my legs are like jelly!” Hermione smoothed her hair away from her face and traced her lips with the side of her finger to remove any lipstick around her lip line.

“You’ll be fine, Granger. With the way we were fighting out there, they’ll think you’re flush because you’ve been shouting at me.” The smirk on his face was less smarmy and more proud than anything. She liked it. She wanted to both smack it and kiss it off. 

“I was shouting at you,” she reminded him with a smile of her own. “Your argument for Theo is still lacking.” 

“Will you please just let him go, Granger? You know he doesn’t breed dragons.” Draco primped his robes and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a ploy by his ex because the bloke’s mad Theo’s dating Potter.” 

“You need a better argument.” Hermione pulled a compact out of her pocket and checked her hair and makeup. Everything looked in place, except her nerves which were everywhere. 

“Come out with me tonight. A proper date.”

“Are you  _ bribing _ me, Draco?” She laughed and made her way to the door. 

“Yes and no,” he answered and hurried to the door. He pressed his hand against it so that she couldn’t pull it open. “Convince the jury to let him go and come out on a date with me tonight. Or, stay here half the night deliberating over something you know to be untrue and miss out on the opportunity to have our first date on the most romantic night of the year.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” 

“I’m ridiculous. Come on, Granger. You spent all this time trying to get me into your bed. Don’t throw it away over Theodore Nott.”

Hermione laughed. “Let’s get back to court. They’ll start asking questions soon.” 

She yanked on the door twice before Draco allowed her to open it. They were surprised to find that there was no one left in the courtroom except for Theo. He sat at the table, a large grin on his face, as they made their way toward him. 

“What… where is everyone?” Hermione asked with a glance around the room. 

“Everyone was highly uncomfortable by the goings on behind Door Number One.” Theo aimed his thumb at the door they’d just emerged from. Hermione turned bright red and darted her eyes to Draco’s stunned face. Theo laughed. “Silencing Charms are Grade Two, mate. You couldn’t have taken a hot second to use one before seducing Granger to set me free? By the way –“

Theo raised a brow and turned on Hermione with dimpled cheeks. “You gave in extremely easily. I thought you’d make me sit in Azkaban for at least another night before you broke down and demanded my release.” 

“Theo!” Hermione was mortified, face red and palms sweaty. “You sat here and listened to the entire thing? That’s appalling!” 

“No,” he laughed. “After everyone filed out of here, I used a Silencing Charm like a civilized wizard, thank you very much.” 

“And you, mate? You’re free to go?” Draco nodded at Theo’s unbound hands. 

“Apparently, Juror Six had a word with Chief Warlock Ogden before arriving and explained the whole ridiculous situation.” Theo shrugged. “Potter corroborated. I was freed this morning and can spend Valentine’s Day with The Boy Who Lived.” 

She was going to kill him. Murder in the courtroom. 

“You cheeky witch!” Draco grabbed her hand as she turned away. He brought her hand to his lips and smiled as he placed a kiss on the back of it. “All of this to get me to notice you?” 

She chewed her lip and smiled with a short nod at the ground. She lifted a shoulder and dropped it noncommittally. “I guess I fancy you a little bit. Probably.”

Draco squeezed her fingers, a smile on his bemused face. “I guess I fancy you a little bit, too. Probably.” 


End file.
